


Reminders Of A Life Short Lived

by GoldenEntertainment



Series: Red Dead Redemption Collection [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mental Torture, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenEntertainment/pseuds/GoldenEntertainment
Summary: Micah, being the fucking drunk bitch he is, tells Arthur how he stumbled upon his old, old journal, and reminds him of things Arthur hoped to have forgotten. Then the following day and the interactions.





	Reminders Of A Life Short Lived

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers, except Eliza and Issac and their death. The robbery is something I made up.

The party broke out like wildfire, everyone was happy about the successful robbery on Cornwall, as his train gave them money for so many opportunities. Dutch for one had actually taken a few drinks and was drunk himself, fuck, even Hosea was a little tipsy, it was going great. Bill was talking about how the military is a corrupt place and all that, and Uncle was singing between hiccups to Javier's guitar. Arthur had actually been the one who found the train, and pretty much lead the robbery himself and Dutch praised him greatly.

"Arthur, you bastard you, you gave us the hope we needed!" Dutch slurred

Arthur, being drunk himself would always reply with a quick "Aww, it was nothing."

Micah on the other hand, didn't like the attention Arthur was getting and he had an evil thought cross his mind. He had recently found Arthur old Journal from when Arthur was still in his early 20's, and it was filled mainly of Arthur talking about the death of his family, his 'wife' (They weren't married) Eliza and their son, Issac. He waited for the right time to strike.

"Arthur, you did good, really, if it wasn't for you, we'd still be scrambling for money like a group of rats!" Hosea grunted,

"As I said, it was nothing, I just looked in the newspaper and told you lot about it, besides, we would'a found out anyway."

"Arthur, you're loyalty is amazing!" Dutch yelled, obviously he drunk another bottle of beer.

This was Micah's chance. "But were you always so loyal Arthur?" He hissed.

John looked round to him "What do you mean?"

"I recently found something Arthur" He hissed.

Arthur looked at him with a confused look as he pulled out a small red, leather book. He didn't recognize it.

"Whats that" He hiccuped

Micah gave out a small cackle "Oh, nothing, just something that told me about the times when you weren't so loyal, maybe loyal to Dutch, but not so to another person... A certain woman."

Now the whole gang stared at Micah as a grin curled on his face, his blonde mustache rising at the edges. The music from Javier's guitar vanished and everyone just jumped their glances between Micah and Arthur as they knew this wasn't going to end well.

"I don't know what you're talking abo-" Then it hit him like a sack of bricks, he noticed the engravings on the book Micah was waving.

_Arthur Morgans Journal 1887-1889_

He stared at Micah with a blank, scared look on his face, his face went pale.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about" He sneered. "Eliza and Issac."

Those 2 words shot him harder than any bullet he had ever felt, and the pain in his chest grew with anger and sorrow. Dutch, Hosea, John, Abigail, and Susan were all looking at Arthur while the rest of the gang repeated the names in confusion. Arthur twitched at the mention of their names.

"You know Morgan. Their death was sad, 'specially since you wrote fondly of them. The kid seemed so innocent, the whore too."

Arthur was raging, he felt like fire was building up inside him, ready to make him explode in pure anger and rage. He would've punched him there and then if he hadn't had his anxiety weigh him down and make him cower in front of Micah. He knew this was what Micah wanted. Power. And he was giving it to him with no control. Now John chimed into hush Micah.

"Shut up you fuckin' bastard if you'dve read some more you'd see what it did to him."

Micah stood and laughed. His voice ringing in Arthurs' ears as he spoke.

"I know damn well what it did to him, how he murdered the robber, how he almost drank himself to death, hell, he even wrote about how good suicide felt right there and then."

The gang chattered among themselves, trying to read between the lines and find out what had happened.

"Micah, shut up now before Arthur hushes you himself."

Micah once again just cackled like the hyena he is, damn the laugh shattered Arthur.

 _He thinks it's funny doesn't he?_ He thought _To talk about the pain and loss of another person and laugh?_

Arthur was on the edge of his seat, ready to charge at him, but he was glued to his seat as memories filled him, then he saw himself, looking back at him, his old drunk self, crying into the damp fabric of his cot, when he came back from seeing the two crosses, with Hosea and Dutch outside his tent talking to Susan and John about what they should do.

"Morgan, how does it feel, to have your own wife and son die like that? Over 10 measly dollars?" Now the camp was looking at Arthur as his pupils shrank in rage, he still couldn't move "How does it feel? To not have been there to help them, because you cared about money and the gang more than your own family, O'Driscolls find out about lovers quick you know, Dutch learned that the hard way too." Dutch shot him a dirty look, he knew he was talking about Annabelle "And looking back on these entries, you were right, you were worthless, useless, no one wanted or needed you, you should have killed yourself like you promised you would. I'm surprised the gang back then didn't throw you out right there and then, I mean-"

Arthur couldn't hear anything else, everything became a blur of red, instead, he could hear a high pitched buzz in his ear, he could see the worried expressions on the gangs faces as they looked at Micah, begging him to just shut up and go away, to save himself. But he kept going on and on. Between the buzzes, he could hear Micah say one phrase "They were probably happy to die instead of putting up with you." Followed by cackles. Arthur snapped, his blood boiled and he yelled louder than ever and charged at Micah, whose face twisted from that stupid, shit-eating grin to a terrified, scrunched up mess.

Arthur lunged at him, taking him down to the ground, he grabbed him by the collar and continuously punched him between the eyes till blood splattered all over him and Micah hung conscienceless in his tight grip. He stood up, covered in blood, and gave him one last kick in the rib before he turned on his heel and headed to his tent. He could hear the silent whispers from the gang members and John saying,

"Y'know what, he deserved that"

He did, Arthur knew this, the gang knew this, everyone did, Arthur lay in his cot and twitched in a cowardly fear he hadn't felt in years upon years. He eventually let a rogue tear run down the side of his face at the memory of Eliza and Issac, before falling asleep. 

* * *

The next morning he awoke to the sun blinding him through the rip in his tent roof, he sat on his bed, leaned back onto the wagon behind him, and sighed, rubbing his eyes, he removed his hands to see they were covered in a dry coat of now brown blood which stank of Micah, he went down to the lake and cleaned himself of, the gang avoiding him as he walked. He washed his arms and changed out of his clothes shortly after to wash his old clothes. He took his hat off and looked at his reflection in the rippling water and sighed, he had bags under his eyes and he looked awfully pale, he looked like the young, heartbroken Arthur from all those years ago, the broken soul, the poor soul which hoped for better for himself, and those he loved. For a split second he thought, _'Maybe that bitch was right...'_ before snapping back to reality and refusing to have those thoughts again, not after he had healed so well from them.

He felt a firm grip on his shoulder, he turned his head slightly to be met with Dutch's gaze.

"You alright son?" He said, his voice filled with concern.

"Y-yes." He struggled to speak, his voice sounded like gravel, this just struck more concern into Dutch, as his brows furrowed and he looked Arthur straight in the eye. 

"You know what Micah said isn't true, you're not worthless, and I'm proud to be able to call you my son." His voice cracked and trailed off at the end of his sentence.

Arthur gave him a weak smile and looked back at the water, he put his hat back on and said: "I know Dutch, I know."

"No one wanted to touch Micah and he's still out cold, that was probably the hardest you've ever punched someone." Dutch added, with a small chuckle.

"You don't even know, my fist still hurts bad." He replied, looking at his fist, opening and closing it. He still had some stains on his he didn't notice earlier.

"Hosea says you should maybe have some rest, to cool down, I was planning another big robbery, but it can wait if you want."

Arthur looked back at the dark-haired man and smiled "No, go without me, I'll cool off, you ought to go along with your plan without me."

"But-"

"No buts, just do it, I feel like you lot can do good on your own"

"Ok then. If you say so, I'll leave you to do what you want for some time."

With that, the hand on his shoulder was removed, and the man left Arthur by the lake. Arthur thought about his words 'You're not worthless' then 'I'm proud to be able to call you my son' Arthur felt warm and walked back towards camp. He saw Micah where he left him, still out cold, his nose had gone crooked and blood dyeing his blonde hair and mustache ginger. He walked past Sean who jumped up when he saw him.

"Oh, h-hey Arthur, that was urm, quite a night." He stuttered

Karen slapped him in the back of his head and mouthed the words 'Shut up idiot' when she saw Arthurs annoyed expression.

Everyone sort of left Arthur alone and you could even see their hairs stand on edge when he walked past. Micah finally woke up and kept quiet for once, he too, shuddered at the sight of Arthur, only he made sure to be on the opposite side of the camp to him, everyone gave him dirty looks and spat in his direction.

Abigail came up to him with Sadie when he was sitting writing and scribbling in his journal.

"You ok Arthur?" Abigail asked, with genuine concern on her face

"Yeah, I'm fine... I guess" Truth was, he wasn't fine, he was drawing the shaggy wooden crosses and Eliza and Issac in his Journal.

"So you had the same happen then? Just... worse... in a way." Sadie asked

Arthur looked up at her, he had forgotten she was a widow, she hid it well behind her strong and jokey personality.

"I guess you could say it like that" He closed his journal and scratched the back of his neck "Just, I had forgotten, and damn Micah had to bring it up."

"John told me before about it and well, he didn't say much, he just said they were killed, he never told me about the aftermath of the event." Abigail had kneeled down next to him and put a hand on his knee, smiling at him.

"Well, Micah only skimmed what happened, I'd probably make Uncle look like a sober god if he was in the gang back then."

"That's saying a lot." Sadie laughed.

"I heard that!" Uncle yelled, from the nearby table, making the three of them laugh for a good minute.

"Well, we just wanted to make sure you were ok, you've never reacted like that to anyone." Abigail reassured him

"Except the guy who actually killed them, when I found that slippery bastard."

"I don't even want to know what you did to him." Sadie said with a twisted expression on her face

Arthur smiled as they left, and stood up to go back to his tent when a voice he immediately hated sounded behind him.

"M-Morgan"

"Micah." Arthur said, he breathed heavily as to not lunge back at him, he didn't face him, but he stood still, he could see Hosea eyeing down the scenario from his tent

"I- I'd like to say-" He paused and did that weird suck of air he does "-I'm sorry."

Arthur laughed at the last two words.

"Sorry, huh?" He had now turned half the distance and just turned his head the rest of the way. Micah just nodded, stepping back slightly.

Now he has fully turned around "Sorry? Sorry? Well, you sure as shit weren't sorry yesterday when you had the upper hand." The camp looked in their direction as Micah cowered and was ready for impact.

Arthur was stepping forward, as Micah stepped backward "Just know Micah, I ain't takin any of your shit, so don't go expecting me to forgive you so easy. Ever since you joined this camp I hated your guts."

Micah had now backed up into a tree and cowered down with his hands covering his head

"So listen here you son of a bitch" Now Arthur had his finger digging into Micah's chest "You know, I'm stronger than you, and I will not hesitate to shoot you on the spot if needed!"

Arthur stepped back and left, all he heard was a thud as Micah dropped himself into a sit and gave out a huge sigh of relief.

From that day, Micah was terrified of Arthur, and when he caught Micah teasing others, he'd immediately change his nature. The sullen cowboy always waited for the chance to kill the bastard, yet he carried on his torture on for as long as he could. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one sitting, and let me just say, I cried at one point a little, damn, I never thought I could write so sad, I've seen sadder, but I personally think this is good for my second attempt at a fan fic.


End file.
